


Returning

by JantoJones



Series: Stand-alone Two (The 2nd 100) [35]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 23:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Following an accident, a coming to terms is needed.





	Returning

Today was the day he had longed for and dreaded in equal measure. Today he was returning to work after a four-month absence and he wasn’t entirely certain he was quite ready. He had last seen the place when his partner had pushed him out in a wheelchair, following a two-week stay in medical. 

His physical injuries had been serious, but not life threatening, meaning he was able to be released into the care of an U.N.C.L.E.-owned convalescent home for a month and a half. Much of this time was spent on physical therapy and psychiatric counselling. Dealing with the physical side of things had been easy; almost routine. Broken bones mended eventually, and he’d gone through much worse.

However, it had taken many weeks of counselling, before he could sleep a whole night without dreaming of the face of the woman he’d killed. She was still there in his waking hours, but now she was just a flicker on the periphery of his thoughts, rather than a constant presence at the front of his mind. It hadn’t been his fault; something which had taken several sessions for him to fully understand. The poor woman had simply been in the wrong place at exactly the wrong time.

He hadn’t even been on assignment, which somehow made his sense of guilt even more acute. 

It was late on a dark, wet evening, and he had been returning home from a date. In deference to the weather he had been driving slower than usual, but this hadn’t helped when then woman had run out from between some trees and into his path. Dressed in black, she was hardly visible in the pouring rain. He had stamped on the brakes, sending him into a skid on rhe water-covered road. Tugging at the steering wheel, he had attempted to control the skid and turn the car away from the woman. He would have succeeded if she hadn’t been frozen in fear. 

The back of the vehicle had struck her hard, sending her onto the sidewalk, where her head hit the ground. He found out later that she had been killed instantly. He himself was slammed into a wall, where he sustained his injuries.

During his recovery, he had asked his partner to find out what he could about her, and why she was coming out of woods at that time of night. The answers hadn’t really assuaged his troubled mind as he had hoped they would.

Nineteen–year-old Lydia Adamson had been on a date with her boyfriend. The relationship was frowned upon by her parents, so had to be conducted covertly. They had often gone into the woods in order to be together but, on the fateful night, her boyfriend had pushed his boundaries, to which Lydia had taken exception. An argument had ensued resulting in Lydia deciding to run home. Unfortunately, her route took her across the road on which the agent had been travelling.

He had spent the second half of his absence in his own apartment. Barely venturing out to begin with, he relied on his partner, and others, to keep him supplied with anything he needed. Over time he slowly began to come to terms with what had happened. He’d killed many people during his career, but the accidental death of an innocent young woman had hit him more than any other which he’d had a hand in. She had been on the cusp of adulthood, ready to head into a bright future, but fate had decided another outcome for her.

It had only been a week ago that he had finally been able to get back behind the wheel of a car without feeling nauseated and anxious. His recovery still had a long way to go, but the psychiatrist had recommended he return to work. Mr Waverly had readily agreed but, fully cognizant of his agent’s position, had insisted that he ease his way back. It was decided by all parties that he would remain office bound until he was once again ready for the field.

So, here he was, standing outside Del Floria’s. One half of him wanted to get back into the swing of things, but the other half was afraid. Would his confidence return to what it was? Would he be able to one day drive anywhere without seeing Lydia at every turn? And, would his partner trust him to have his back when he needed it, or would he be wary of him and his state of mind?

While he wavered in his decision to go in, the door of the tailor’s shop opened, and Illya Kuryakin stepped out. The Russian came up the steps and put a supportive hand on Napoleon’s shoulder.

“Are you ready, my friend?”

Napoleon nodded. He was ready. Maybe not for everything, but he was ready to restart his life. Lydia Adamson would forever be a part of him but, thanks to the hours of talking with the psychiatrist, and Illya, he knew that he couldn’t allow the accident to end his life too.


End file.
